


Brofriendship

by kingfisherBlues



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, And everyone lives in the same town., Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingfisherBlues/pseuds/kingfisherBlues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Brofriendship (n) \ˈbrō ˈfren(d)-ˌship\</b><br/>1: the state of being total friends with years of history and affectionate loyalty<br/>2: the quality or state of being friendly without any overtly awkward tones due to stupidly repressed feelings : <i>brofriendliness</i> </p>
<p>Examples of <i>brofriendship</i>:<br/><i>If he laughs about your "brofriendship" one more time, you're going to break his face.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel in spirit and story to my Words Escape You series, although less serious and generally more ridiculous.
> 
> It's hard to take a title with a pun on "bro" seriously.

**== > Be the main narrative focus.**

Your name is DAVE STRIDER, and you are very glad the school day is over.

You can still hear the dulcet tones of the school bus as it drives away down the street, though the sound is mercifully muffled by the ear-bud of your headphones currently resting in one ear. The other ear-bud is hanging loose and striking against your stomach as you hop up the few steps leading to the front door of your home; you had been listening to music with your best friend JOHN EGBERT, who rides the same bus, but did not deign to replace the ear-bud when it came time for you to get off. Given that the front door is shaking with a low bass tone as you try to guide the key into the lock, it seems that turning off your MP3 player would be a wise move. You were listening to the playlist labelled _"john egbert is uncultured swine"_ anyway. That playlist, as the title suggests, is no where near the level of awesome as what is pumping through your house at the moment. You only keep it because it has the amusing effect of pissing John off every time, but the two of you still listen to it together. That's just the sort of friends you two are.

You unlock the door and push it open to find your older brother mixing music at the turntables he keeps in the living room. His back is turned to you, head bobbing as his deft fingers flip switches and experiment with dials. The dude is rad as hell and he's got the skill of a practiced artisan, even if he does listen to the mainstream shit that your fellow students pump through their tinny iPod speakers on a daily basis. You can't begrudge him that; unlike them, Bro listens to that stuff for the right reasons. Ironic reasons. Very deep, but ultimately superficial reasons.

Or maybe it's the other way around. Irony is an art all its own, and as cool as you are, you're still a grasshopper-in-training.

Wait, that was a lame metaphor.

At least no one can hear you call yourself a grasshopper.

You walk past Bro towards the hall to the right of the kitchen, sending him a thumbs-up when you catch his eye. He returns it quickly, hands keeping to the tables. It's Friday, so you know that he's going to be gone by seven and probably won't return until seven hits again in the morning, if that. But if you don't get homework done soon so he can see proof you're not totally pissing your education away, he'll probably hide something unpleasant in your dresser. Or in the shower. Or anywhere, really, where the addition of anything but the norm would be considered unpleasant. The dude is sneaky as hell, but damn if he isn't just as cool about it. 

As you push open your bedroom door, you just manage to catch the sight of a new message popping up on your computer. You drop your backpack on the floor and sit down in your desk chair, only to stand right back up. It's one of your other best friends, ROSE LALONDE, and it looks like the girl has already sent you a heavy load of serious. She only greets you like _that_ when she's got a bone to pick with you, or ten, or maybe a whole goddamn skeleton because she's deemed herself the boss on your maladjusted attitude and there isn't anything you can do about it.

If you were being perfectly honest with yourself, you would admit that you wouldn't trust anyone else to dissect your psyche like her. You guys are the same kind of fucked up, and that's a special sort of friendship to have.

That doesn't stop you from wasting time by snitching snacks from the kitchen and searching for ink pens that aren't dying a horrible ink-deficient death.

When a text message chimes from your phone, you sit back down at the desk with a sigh.

 

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 15:56 --  
TT: Dave.  
TT: I know that you're there. It's no use to ignore my pestering.  
TT: Nor is it wise to ignore the single text message I sent to your phone, given that you are unable to pry your grubby hands from it lest your tens and tens of Twitter followers miss a single update on your thoughts on school cafeteria food and the tenuous ties it has to Marxism.  
TG: christ a dude cant even take a piss without girls falling all over his grill and yammering about communism in schools  
TG: which is totally a thing btw  
TG: ive got stacks of research into the subject  
TG: theyre towering all up in my conspiracy cave and threatening to fall down on my computer desk of justice because theres no holding back the waves of red threat its just impossible  
TT: Are these stacks of conspiracy research written in varying pen colors with helpfully inarticulate crayon illustrations?  
TG: absolutely  
TG: about half of them have weird stains that i dont even remember making but theyre there  
TG: just like the signs of stalin in that gross chicken fried steak the school tried to pass off as food today  
TT: How ever do you endure such a blatant mockery of American capitalism?  
TG: the same way you endure your organic 100% cruelty free packed lunch with extra yuppie elitism and free range bullshit  
TT: With the self-righteousness of manifest destiny and the sneering attitude of youths under the misconception that they are far intellectually superior to their peers?  
TG: yeah except it aint a misconception at all  
TG: cant say for you but i know to look down when it starts raining  
TT: I'm not sure what you mean by that.  
TG: i mean what do you want  
TG: we share a million classes couldnt it wait until tomorrow  
TT: No.  
TT: We need to talk.  
TG: you cant break up with me im pregnant  
TT: I'm sterile.  
TG: i never said it was yours  
TT: Charming.  
TT: You upset John today.  
TG: what the hell are you talking about  
TT: You know what I'm talking about.  
TG: i really dont  
TG: when the hell did this happen  
TG: jesus i got home barely ten minutes ago and he was fine then  
TT: Did you sit next to him on the bus?  
TG: of course i fucking did i always sit next to him  
TT: Did you discuss much?  
TG: what the hell kind of question is that  
TG: hey dave did you discuss the meaning of life and love with your best bro on the bus today because if you didnt this is a sign of some truly upsetting shit and you have to go apologize to him ASAP or shits going to go down  
TG: what are you the friendship police  
TT: Absolutely.  
TG: trick question thats not a real thing because thats dumb and stupid  
TG: friends dont police each other they hold riots and proclaim anarchy and run around with scissors recklessly  
TG: everybody knows this  
TG: get with the program  
TT: You are one to to be heedlessly reckless.  
TG: okay what are you saying here  
TG: whats john got to do with this  
TT: In short, everything.  
TT: I am fully aware that you intercepted a message from him that was meant for me months back.  
TT: I am aware of this because you did not delete the log, Strider.  
TG: i was busy messing with your computer  
TT: Yes, just as I was busy banning you from ever entering my house again.  
TG: harsh  
TT: So is assuming my identity in order to needle a mutual friend about his confession of attraction for one Dave Strider.  
TT: A subject, may I remind you, which caused undue consternation in our mutual friend as it clashed with his long held conceptions of 'brofriendship' and sexuality.  
TG: yeah i know he got his panties in a gorgon knot about his cravings for a piece of the strider pie  
TG: but that was forever ago  
TG: why are you bothering me about this now  
TT: Gordian knot.  
TG: what  
TT: The knot that Alexander the Great solved by cutting it in half with his sword.  
TG: was that really necessary  
TT: Yes.  
TG: i hate you a little  
TT: I know.  
TG: okay i have no idea where youre going with this but ive got shit to do so lets make this snappy  
TT: Fine.  
TT: Do you intend to court John?  
TG: wow thats  
TG: okay first of all  
TG: you know what screw this  
TG: that is the worst way to ask someone if theyre jonesing for some man meat and you know it  
TT: You appear to be quite flustered about a simple question.  
TG: its not a simple fucking question you cant just ask a dude if he intends to "court" his best friend after yelling something about upsetting the dude and the proper name of some old ass knot  
TT: Dave.  
TG: and yeah i get it, he had a crush on me back in eighth grade  
TG: big fucking whoop we talked about it like grown ass men and its fine because were not like that  
TT: Dave.  
TG: were best bros and thats cool and were cool and i dont need you sticking your nose all up in this at every moment when john gets a little pissy because lets be honest  
TG: the dude flips his shit about the dumbest shit sometimes  
TT: Dave.  
TG: he could break his favorite pencil and be thrown in the deepest throes of melancholy for all of five seconds before hes fondling twenty new ones and determining their writing abilities by the amount of cartoon characters theyve got  
TT: Dave.  
TG: for future reference anything with spongebob is the best for essays while a more serious test taking tone requires the subtly of dora and her magical adventures  
TT: Dave.  
TG: what  
TT: You gave him a lap dance at lunch.  
TG: so  
TT: You don't see how dumb that is?  
TG: he didnt tip me very well so yeah it was pretty dumb  
TT: You jackass.  
TT: You remember what happened last year.  
TT: The boy flipped his shit and had a veritable life crisis because he felt some passing sexual attraction to one of his best friends.  
TT: He barely spoke to us through that whole time and you were oblivious to it until you saw him write it in plain text on my computer screen.  
TG: and then i teased him for a week and jade beat me up and then we talked like bros and it was fine  
TG: the end  
TT: No, not the end.  
TT: This is most definitely not the end of the matter.  
TT: Dave, your actions have been overtly sexual since the beginning of the school year and it's starting to get worrisome.  
TG: check your stone throwing cause youre not exactly miss good behavior either  
TG: ive had to cover johns virgin eyes every time you fucking look at jade for fear of him exploding from sheer embarrassment  
TT: Alas that my affection for the girl be so obvious.  
TT: If only I would discuss my intentions with her in an open and relaxed manner so that there was no confusion on the matter.  
TT: If only we had come to a mutual resolution that did not involve ignoring the whole thing and acting as though nothing had happened.  
TT: But, no, I will never speak to her in such a reasonable way. Instead, I will merely make obscene jokes and corner her in awkward places while offering "sleep-away happy fun time camps for singles, no girls allowed" and lewdly winking.  
TG: if no girls are allowed how are you guys going to go  
TT: Dave.  
TG: dont start that again  
TG: and your backhanded passive-aggressive bullshit up there is totally unnecessary  
TG: he knows im joking  
TT: Are you sure about that?  
TG: yeah  
TT: You're positive he knows you're joking when you pull him into your lap and call him 'sweet cheeks'.  
TG: yes  
TT: And when you try to pinch his bottom as he passes you in class.  
TG: yes because its hilarious  
TT: And when you draw matching hearts on your arms and write "JE + DS 5evar" in gel pen.  
TG: third times the charm because yes  
TT: You can't possibly be this fucking stupid.  
TG: okay im seriously getting ticked off over here because guess what rose  
TG: this is none of your fucking business  
TG: so why dont you leave it alone  
TT: Dave, you are my friend, but so is John.  
TT: I can't leave it alone if I feel like what you're doing may be hurting him.  
TG: jesus christ  
TG: okay fine  
TG: you know what???  
TG: talk to your hearts content because youre not listening when i tell you everything is fine and it really is fine because me and john have already fucking talked about this bullshit and there isnt a problem to be had  
TG: he had a crush on me once but it aint going any further than that so  
TG: so yeah  
TG: im joking and he knows it and everythings awesome and ill draw all the damn hearts i want to because ive got a shitton of gel pens rose and theyre not going anywhere  
TT: How long have you had a crush on him?  
TG: jesus deep dicking christ  
TG: where the hell did you pull that out of  
TT: Am I wrong?  
TG: yeah because a crush would mean i have some sort of heart thats dumb enough to fall for the goober  
TT: ... Goober?  
TG: shut up  
TT: So you do have a crush on him.  
TG: oh my fucking god  
TG: nevermind you can rip on my diction up there because thats something that has actually happened and deserves to be picked apart  
TT: You never did tell me the specifics of your 'conversation' with him.  
TT: All I know is that he came out of the experience a lot more cheerful than when he entered it.  
TG: big whoop  
TG: its john  
TG: he could face the apocalypse and still laugh about stupid shit  
TT: A ludicrous hyperbole, but it holds a grain of truth.  
TT: But the problem remains.  
TG: stop right there  
TG: stop whatever you are typing right now  
TG: there isnt any problem for you to be picking apart and sinking your therapist needles into  
TG: sorry freud youre going to have to make awkward passes at someone elses mom today  
TT: Of the two of us, only one is experienced in opining on the hotness attribute of maternal figures.  
TG: its a universal truth that your mom is hot rose  
TG: its just like gravity and black holes that shit aint changing any time soon  
TT: Your eloquence astounds.  
TT: How has John not swooned directly into your arms yet?  
TG: ha ha very funny  
TT: It wasn't intended to be.  
TG: rose  
TG: just drop it  
TT: Alright.  
TG: im sensing a 'for now' in there  
TG: i dont want to be sensing that rose  
TT: Then don't.  
TG: why are we friends  
TT: Because you love me.  
TG: yeah  
TG: alright ive got homework to deface  
TT: I'll leave you to it.  
TT: Goodbye, Dave.  
TG: later  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 16:37 --

God fucking damn it.

**== > Dave: Remember that one conversation.**

You remember that one god-awful conversation, as you constantly remember that god-awful conversation, because you're a freshman in high school and if freshmen do anything, it's remember god-awful conversations they've had with their best friend about how they're totally never going to do the full dating thing.

It really sucks that it came from him, though, because you were into the idea but apparently it was just too 'weird' for him.

EB: i mean, yeah, i like you, but i don't like you like that!  
TG: like what  
TG: like boners  
TG: because from what youve said so far there were a shitton of boners and you just didnt know what to do with them  
TG: you tried to hold them all but it got slippery real quick and you dropped all the goddamn boners and gave up before you even started  
EB: you're so gross, dude.  
EB: that's why we can't date!  
TG: ouch  
TG: bullseye on my feelings there egbert  
EB: no, dave, shut up for a second!  
EB: you're my best friend! we've done a bunch of stupid stuff together.  
EB: people who are dating hold hands and buy flowers and give each other pet names.  
EB: they don't have no-holds barred cheeto stuff-puff contests.  
TG: is this because i beat your record by five cheeto puffs  
EB: no, it's because i like our friendship, dumbass.  
TG: okay  
TG: so just to be clear  
TG: were not going to break the minds of our puny fellow freshmen by coming out with a totally homoerotic relationship  
EB: no, dave, we're going to have a perfectly awesome brofriendship because we are total bros.  
TG: bros that occasionally make out  
EB: hehe, only if you stop using cinnamon toothpaste.  
TG: what the hell is your deal with cinnamon toothpaste  
EB: my deal is that it's gross and you are gross for using it.  
TG: ouch  
TG: there you go again  
TG: just not letting up on those feelings are you  
EB: i'm totally kidding! calm down, dude.  
EB: ...  
EB: so...  
TG: so  
EB: are we still good?

You couldn't deny him that.

TG: yeah were good

He is your best friend. And even though it would have been pretty fun to hang out with him as more than 'bros' and get some sick romantic action going on, it's not like you can pull the rug out from under him for just a few shits and giggles. The last giggles you got were from when you scoped Rose's Pesterchum account during the unwise moment when she left you alone with her computer; you had called him out for his giggled _"ha ha ha i guess i like dave!"_ and he had ignored you for a whole week.

It was a pretty dumb thing to do. There's no denying that.

So, yeah, you guys are friends. And that's cool. You've been friends since third grade, so it's not like that's a big deal. And you can handle his laughing deflections, just like he can handle your gratuitously overt advances, because you both know nothing is going to come of it. It's just you two being jackasses, on par with water balloon fights and 3 AM pranks, except with a few more lap dances.

You are getting pretty good at lap dances. If only he didn't shoved itching powder in your shorts as a tip.

Rose is being dumb. There's not a problem here at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**== > Be the dense freshman.**

You can't be the dense freshman! Not only is that statement incredibly rude, but it's highly inaccurate. The dense freshman is a sophomore now. If you're going to a jerk, at least be accurate about it.

**== > Fine. Be the dense sophomore.**

Sorry, he's busy! _(hehehehe)_

**== > Introduce this tool then.**

Well, that was still rude, but okay.

Your name is JOHN EGBERT and despite the assertions of certain esoteric narrative tropes, you are not dense, nor are you a tool. You are a sophomore in high school and soon to be sixteen years old. Were your BEST PAL and ALL-AROUND AWESOME FRIEND around, she would firmly remind you that your birthday is still two months away and there's no reason to get excited yet. But, as you would remind her, she just doesn't understand because she and your other two best friends are already old spinsters and have been since last year. Leave the partying to the young and hip crowd. They've got this covered.

But JADE HARLEY isn't around, because she doesn't share this class with you. She's in the Smart Kid Biology class, leaving you to languish in the mandatory Biology class all sophomores have to take because something about credits. You didn't really pay attention to that part when your counselor got around to it. It's not that school isn't interesting! But you wanted more electives and now, instead of taking more advanced computer classes, your wants have been slammed down by the hard knock life of EDUCATIONAL STANDARDS.

Your other best friend DAVE STRIDER would be able to rant more about that than you. You just think it's dumb because it is and there's nothing that can change your mind.

You end your introductory thoughts in time to realize that you've been spacing in class for all of ten minutes, which is just long enough to miss the teacher's somewhat important announcement to choose partners. Students push around desks and form pairs as you sit and panic. None of your friends are in this class. Not only that, you don't really talk to anyone else! The only person you've had more than a few words in conversation with is the person that sits behind you.

On that thought, you turn around and smile in a hopeful way at CASSIE JOHNSON. She blinks at you in reply. 

"Want to be partners?" you ask.

She taps her pencil against her cheek in thought. She hasn't run away to one of the other giggling girls yet, so maybe you can get away with this. She may not be the most overly friendly person, but she isn't dumb, at least. And she laughs at your jokes.

"Sure," she answers with a shrug. "You're not completely dumb, at least."

"Wow, thanks," you drawl, rolling your eyes, but you rock your desk until it's perpendicular to hers and settle down to...

Uh. Some sort of work.

"What's the assignment again?" you ask Cassie; she sighs heavily, as dramatic as a fifteen-year-old can make it, but she's smiling a little so it can't be all that bad.

"We're charting mitosis phases and defining vocabulary words," she patiently explains, pulling a textbook out from under her desk. You quickly follow suit, cracking it open to a whiff of that weird glue-and-paper smell, and listen as Cassie gives you instructions on what to do.

She's nice. Really nice! Maybe she would like to be your Valentine's girlfriend?

**== > John: Introduce the main conflict.**

There isn't a main conflict to be had! You're going to ask Cassie to be your Valentine's girlfriend, because she's nice and you two talked after class and she likes some of the same movies that you do. Or at least, she's willing to talk about them using adjectives that aren't _"shitty"_ or _"mind-blowingly amounts of dumb"_ or _"i swear to god i think my brain cells died a little and its all your fault"_. Most of those adjectives are followed by twenty lines of rambling that you don't bother to read, because your movies are cool and that's just a fact.

At lunchtime, you sit at the usual spot you and your friends occupy and wait. Rose usually joins you first; she brings her own lunch, like you do, and the two of you compare and contrast while waiting for the other two in your quartet to arrive.

As you wait for her, you munch on an apple your dad packed in your lunch and stare out the nearby window. It shows a lovely view of the winter-frosted walkway between the main school building and the nearby technical school; you count fifteen cigarette butts and consume half the apple before the click of plastic trays on the table catch your attention.

You turn to find two of your best friends; they sit down nearly in unison, though one slumps into his seat and the other bounces on the edge as she is surely bursting with what happened in her morning classes.

"Hey, John!" Jade chirps.

"Hey, Jade!" you chirp back.

"The third flighty bird ain't here today," Dave grumbles, poking at the sandwich on his tray. He carefully begins dissecting it, rearranging the deli meat and cheese more to his liking and stealing lettuce from Jade's tray. "She's home with a serious case of up-chucking."

"Really?" you exclaim. "That sucks! She seemed fine yesterday."

"The key word there is 'yesterday', dumbass."

"Jerkbutt."

"Dinkletwat."

Jade burst out laughing; you snigger into your palm, more amused by her amusement than Dave's dumb obscenities.

"Hehehe, _'dingletwat'_ ," you mimic, mocking.

"That's not how I said it," he instantly interjects.

"It totally is, Dave," Jade laughs, pushing against his shoulder with hers. She steals a few grapes from his tray and munches on them without removing the stems. You grimace. "You're still, like, half-Southern. It just happens and it's hilarious every time."

"You're the one that switches up language in her sleep, Miss Rosetta Stone," Dave points out, and your grimace deepens, turning into an affronted frown.

"Why would you even know that, man?" you demand, eying him suspiciously. You're kind of protective of Jade! It's usually a source of amusement between the two of you, given that she's spent more time beating up schoolyard bullies on your behalf than anyone else. But she's still your friend, and you will defend her honor from creepy dudes, even if the creepy dude happens to be your best bro.

Jade sighs, "I fell asleep once at his place when we were doing homework," at the same time that Dave deadpans, "I'm her boy toy, how would I not know that."

Jade starts laughing again at the spasm of disgusted confusion that strikes your traitorous facial features. "You're her _what?_ "

"Yes, John, you're going to have to share me eventually. Let's not be selfish here."

"What does that even mean? I thought you were dating Rose?" you direct at Jade. It takes her a while to calm down, in which time Dave has stolen one of the cookies of your lunch and demolished half of his rebuilt sandwich.

"Yes, I'm dating Rose," Jade answers. "You don't know what a boy toy is?"

"Uh. No?"

She opens her mouth to dutifully explain, still snickering, but Dave claps a hand over her mouth and endures the resulting lick with stoic dignity. "No, don't spoil the surprise," he loudly whispers. "If you tell him, then he'll want me, too, and I'm already juggling my time between you and Rose. I'm only one man, Harley. There's got to be a line drawn somewhere."

"You taste gross," she complains when he finally withdraws.

"It's not my fault you've got a compulsive licking disorder," he rejoins, and holds two fingers up to his mouth in a gesture you guess is meant to be offensive, because Jade squawks and pushes him right out of his seat.

You laugh it off as he gets to his feet, pushing a cookie towards Jade in a gesture of solidarity. You're pretty sure that Dave picks on her just because she gives as good as she gets, but all the same, there's no need to be so rude about it. You roll your eyes at him as he settles back into his seat.

"So I'm going to ask this girl in my class if she'll be my valentine," you proudly announce when the two have made their peace.

Jade coos and claps her hands; Dave just stares, one eyebrow raised in what you've determined is his _"oh really now"_ pose.

"Sounds lame," he pronounces.

"Sounds adorable!" Jade exclaims. "Do you like her?"

You laugh, suddenly nervous about the intensity of her tone. "She's nice, so, sure, I like her. I was thinking about sending her one of those secret valentine things."

Once again, you're left staring as Jade nearly squeals and Dave slumps in his seat.

"Dude, those things are so incredibly lame that just thinking about getting one puts you on par with ducks," he complains.

"Wow, that didn't make any sense at all!" she laughs, and the warning bell rings across the cafeteria. There is a brief lull in the chattering noise of hundreds of students -- you hardly notice it anymore, except when it stops -- and then kids pick up the volume as they rush to finish their lunches and get ready for class.

The three of you pick up your trash and you walk with Jade to the trash cans. "I think it'll be sweet," she muses. "Are you going to be anonymous or are you going to put your name on the ticket?"

You throw away the rumpled paper bag of your lunch and think about it. Every year, the Student Council sells treats as valentine's favors to be sent to students in class when the big day comes around. It's a big affair in that it's really dumb, but it's a nice gesture all the same. People can even customize the little card that goes with the valentine, though it's usually treated as an opportunity to abuse heart stickers and colored pens.

"I guess it depends on whether or not I want to ask her out for real," you wonder out loud. Jade empties her tray over the trash can and slides it onto a nearby rack. Her eyes flicker towards you; you catch the warning too late as Dave, heretofore ignored as a spoilsport, smacks your ass with the flat of his palm.

"Go get her, tiger," he drawls as you dart forward, nearly colliding into another shocked student. "Drown her in shitty valentines presents. Girl will be unable to resist your bumbling charm."

"Christ, that hurt, you jackass!" you yell, dancing in the spot as you wait for your ass to stop smarting. "You're not allowed to do that anymore! You're officially banned, ending never, from smacking my butt." Your face blazes with embarrassment as soon as the words escape, but you try your best to play it off as indignant anger as you glare at the smirking Dave. The two of you have been in a constant teasing war since eighth grade; neither of you really mean it, but it still aggravates you when he gets you flustered first.

"Perma-banned from the Egbert ass? How ever will I live with myself," Dave deadpans, and your glare is directed at Jade as she begins giggling again. He grabs your arm before you can give them the comebacks they deserve, pulling you towards the exits. "C'mon, we've got gym. Later, Jade."

"See you in English," she chirps, darting forward to press a kiss to your cheek and Dave's chin -- he's shot up since last year, the bastard -- and she skips ahead, book bag bouncing against her hip.

The two of you make it all the way into the locker rooms before Dave asks, "So you going to ask that one chick out?"

You pause, shirt pulled halfway up, and shrug with one arm. "I don't know. But I am going to send her a valentine and I'm going to put my name on it. If she likes it..." You trail off, change into your gym shirt, and shrug again. "Maybe I will."

Dave is turned towards his gym locker, carefully folding his regular clothes up and tucking them away inside the cold metal confines. "Heh. I'll try not to be too jealous, but don't go flaunting your young love everywhere, okay? Be considerate of a bro."

You roll your eyes at his back and change your shorts. "Sure. I will be the most consideringist bro possible."

"That's not even a word, but I appreciate the effort."

"I'll always try for my new boy toy," you mock, and enjoy the rare view of Dave's ears turning red. One surprisingly easy point to Egbert. You should have known a 'boy toy' was something dumb.

"Fuck you, John," he deflects, slamming his locker shut. He stalks out of the locker room as you roll on a nearby bench and laugh.

Wait, you've come up with the perfect line -- no, he's already gone.

Thank goodness that Dave lives for one-upmanship contests or you would have thought that you had actually hurt his feelings.

**== > John: Be one-upped. **

On Valentine's Day, you receive Cassie's gentle rejection and a metric fuckton of valentines in the same hour. Dave took the time to draw on each little card himself with different colored inks. There are even a few written in crayon, and each one has at least two different stickers that have nothing to do with Valentine's Day. He must have trawled countless party supply stores, because you haven't seen Halloween stickers in ages, nor do you think you've ever seen bat mitzvah stickers. You didn't realize that was even a thing. But fifty-seven valentines don't lie.

You must admit. You're pretty impressed.

The poor Student Council crony that had to deliver all of them is visibly less impressed. But that's fine. You can be impressed enough for the both of you.


	3. Chapter 3

**== > Be the pissed off junior.**

You're pissed off alright, but you'd rather not remember that you're a junior right now. That would require acknowledging that there's a thing called school and it's filled with people and your damned idiot of a best friend can't keep himself from hitting on them constantly and then acting surprised when it doesn't pan out like he planned.

It doesn't help that Eat A Bunch of Junk Food and Also Watch Super Cool Movies Night -- you didn't choose the name, much to your chagrin -- has been thoroughly ruined. 

You briefly contemplate what it would be like to throw a tantrum. You've never thrown one before.

**== > Throw a tantrum.**

Sorry, no can do. You haven't been properly introduced, someone else is already throwing his own sulky tantrum all over the living room, and your brother would never forgive you if you did something as stupid as moon around like an over-entitled kid.

You're, like, seventeen. You've got to be mature as balls.

**== > Introduce self so we can deal with this bullshit already.**

Your name is DAVE STRIDER and you're really tired of dealing with this bullshit.

This evening was going to be awesome. You and your friends had been planning a movie night to start off Spring Break for weeks. You were going to make your own Guys Gone Wild video and see how many beaded necklaces you could mooch off of Jade. You were going to rip on so many movies with Rose. You were going to initiate escalating dares with John and see how long it took before the both of you were streaking through the neighborhood.

Then things happened and Jade and Rose couldn't make it tonight. That would have been fine, really, because hanging out with your best bro is always awesome, but then he had to get the worst text message in the history of the entire universe.

His words, not yours.

**== > Dave: Get to the point.**

You sigh and rifle through the kitchen cabinets as John continues to complain.

"A text message? A text message! _A text message break-up_ , even after I bought her flowers," he moans dramatically, peering over the top of the futon in your direction. He's looking for some sort of affirmation of his latest ex-girlfriend's appalling behavior, but you're looking for your emergency juice boxes. He'll just have to wait.

"And I thought things were going so well!" he continues when you fail to reply. "We had dinner just last Saturday, did you know that?"

Yes. You did. He kept texting you through the whole affair.

"And I met her parents and her brother and, well, he was kind of skeezy, but at least I was polite to him."

He didn't 'meet' her parents. He went to her house to drop off the chemistry notes he had borrowed. You know this because the girl had told you about it. You shared a class with her -- you couldn't remember her last name, but she went by Jones, which was weird but whatever -- and she and John had the unfortunate habit of going through you when they wanted to say something serious to each other.

You briefly tried rapping their stuttered telephone conversations in order to get them to stop, but Jones just thought it was funny rather than annoying.

That was a blow to your pride.

You manage to locate the juice boxes hidden behind an illegal amount of orange soda and wander over to the futon, unwrapping the bendy straw attached. John is still lying across the cushions; you jump over the back and worm your way between him and the futon, pushing his legs off. He falls to his knees and dramatically kneels over the futon, still cradling his cell phone.

The message pulled up on the screen reads, _"We should see other people."_ It was sent twenty minutes ago.

You're not really sure what to say that wouldn't be completely stupid, so you snag a wireless Xbox controller from the floor and boot the console up. If you play some movies on the Netflix queue, maybe he'll be distracted enough that you two can talk about the end of another relationship with something resembling normalcy. He is your bro and you love him brotonically -- fuck, platonically, you meant platonically, bro puns are goddamn awful -- but it's really starting to get to you the way he finds someone to date and then falls all over himself in such a short span of time. It would nearly be pathetic, but really, it's just because when John wants to do something, he'll give it all his heart.

It's endearing, if by endearing you mean annoying as hell.

But mostly endearing.

"Dude, what do I even say?" John asks as you flip through available movies and select one that isn't completely awful.

You shrug. "Okay? Sure? I'm so sorry it had to end like this, but can I date your hot brother?"

John rolls his eyes and clambers back onto the futon, gripping his phone tightly in one hand. "Gross, no way. He was a pervert."

"You spoke to him for all of five minutes. What can a pervert do in five minutes?" you unwisely muse.

"He asked if me and Jones had fucked yet," John mutters, a disgusted frown twisting his mouth as he taps contemplatively on the screen of his phone. Your stomach drops through the futon before you realize that if they had, John would have told you about it as soon as he could get his hands on anything that communicated messages.

"Jesus," you mumble, appalled at your own thoughts. You don't want to think about John fucking anyone at the moment.

"I know," he mumbles back.

The two of you sit silently and watch as the animated title screen of the movie unfolds across the screen. John is still holding his phone and you still have no goddamn clue how to proceed. If Rose were here, maybe she'd be able to give you some advice that isn't getting hammered and playing video games all night, because that is the first suggestion your traitorous brain came up with. But Rose isn't here. She's at home, entertaining Jade, because Jade's badass grandfather had to leave on another trip to adventure and when that happens, Jade stays at the Lalonde household.

You would be jealous, but there's pretty much no way you're getting invited to their lesbian shenanigans. Rose already said no.

Whatever. You can have your own shenanigans with John.

"Why did she have to send it in a _text message?_ "

Except John is being annoying.

"Are you going to send her a reply?" you ask, your sympathy plummeting somewhere on the level of listening to hypochondriacs. "You dated her for a whole month. That deserves some sort of poetic farewell, don't it?"

"Ha ha," John sneers. "I don't like breaking up over text message, Dave."

You snort so hard that you nearly inhale the juice box straw. "Do I need to remind you," you cough, ignoring his wicked look of glee at your loss of cool, "About your last soul mate?"

His face colors and crosses his arms with a huff. "She wasn't my soul mate."

"You called her your goddamn soul mate, dude. And then you broke it off over text. With my phone."

"I didn't want her to think I sent it!"

"You have got to be shitting me," you deadpan, staring at him. His face colors even more as he scowls back at you, phone clenched possessively in his hand.

You're getting really tired of his bullshit.

You chuck your nearly empty juice box at him; he scrambles to catch it, surprise making him fumble, and you snatch away his cell phone. He instantly yelps and tries to grab it back, but you kick him away and lean back over the arm of the futon as you type out a message.

"Dave! Give it back!" he yells, punching at your thighs. You plant one foot on his chest and push until he's pinned against the other arm of the futon, furiously wailing on your shins.

"Not until you stop being a big baby," you pant, and hit send.

As soon as he hears the chime of a reply, he freezes. You let your thumb hover over the message, just waiting to pull it open, and stare at him expectantly.

"What did she say?" he asks weakly.

You let your stiff legs relax just a little bit and open the message.

We should see other people.  
k fine  
... I thought you woulda been more upset?

"She's practically bawling," you tell him solemnly, even as you compose a reply. "She's so freaking upset, dude. She's incredibly sorry that you two have to end it at all, but some stuff got in the way. Deep life stuff." He glares at you suspiciously. "Her words."

... I thought you woulda been more upset?  
nah  
this has been in the works for ages hasnt it  
i mean i can buy you all the flowers in the world but i cant buy your love babe

"Are you still texting her? What life stuff? She never mentioned life stuff. Give me back my phone, you dick!" John rattles off in quick succession, resuming his struggling. He manages to knock your legs aside and goes in for a tackle. You fall off the futon in an attempt to avoid him and keep the phone out of his reach, kneeing him in the stomach when he tries to pin you down.

In the time it takes you two to recover breath, Jones has sent a slew of text messages.

Ugh!!! I TOLD you not to call me babe!!!  
AND to stop buying flowers  
I dont even like flowers  
Do you ever listen??

John sits on your legs and tries to pry the phone out of your hands. You hold it away and half-curl around the futon, hiding it under the edge as you type out a sentence. A dead-eyed smuppet stares out at you. You really need to clean under this thing one day, you note, John pounding your shoulder with one frustrated fist.

i guess not because i thought things were going fine between us  
whatd i do wrong?

John gets off your legs and tries to fish around under the futon. His hand finds the smuppet first and he recoils, allowing you time to roll onto your stomach and army-crawl away, phone still awkwardly clutched in hand.

He tackles you successfully in time for another message to pop up, and you read it without thinking.

Its not really that you did anything wrong.  
You treated me like a girlfriend, but you forgot the friend part

There's a heavy weight on your back and a stunned breath just beyond your ear and you realize, a moment too late, that positioned as you are with your arms outstretched, John can read the message, too.

His head drops onto your shoulder; your breath is knocked out in a whoosh as he slumps his full body weight against your back. 

Regret is heavy, man.

"John?" you tentatively try when he doesn't say anything. He just fists a hand in your shirt and stiffens, shaking. You drop the phone and carefully turn over, forcing him to sit upright. He crosses his legs and furiously wipes at his eyes, knocking his glasses askew in the process. You sit up and rub the back of your neck, still heavy with regret. You've had shit ideas before, but this one really seems to take the cake. You just wanted to distract him by being a dick, not get the kid crying.

"Uh," you masterfully start, but he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.

"She's right," he mumbles, low in his chest. "I didn't treat her like a friend. She was just my _girl._ " The word rips from his throat, rasping and spiteful, and the phone chimes again. You glance down.

... John? Are you there?

He stares at it like it's dangerous; you pick the phone up and tuck it into your pocket.

"Did you like her?" you ask quietly. The look he gives you is a mixture of confusion and anger, and you quickly clarify, "Did you like her as a person, I guess. For hanging out. And talking."

You berate yourself for the lack of smooth as he slowly shakes his head in disbelief, folding in on himself. "We didn't really talk much," he admits, shrugging.

"So you just made out all the time? Nice."

"Shut up," he sighs, pushing against your shoulder. You rock in place; at least he isn't too bummed out to be exasperated with your inappropriate questions.

His phone chimes again from your pocket. You ignore it; he flinches, and reflexively reaches for it before letting his hand fall halfway onto the carpet, next to yours.

"I'm a shit boyfriend," he mumbles.

You want to tease him, just a little, and say he ain't a boyfriend anymore. He's a bachelor, back on the prowl, but that brings up the unpleasant thought that in a few weeks he may very well fix his attention on someone else and let the whole process start up again. The kid really likes dating. But as far as you can tell, he's not very good at remembering there's another person in the equation.

"Then stop being a boyfriend," you reply before you recall that there's supposed to be a filter between your brain and your mouth.

He flinches, surprised, and brings his baby blues to bear on you, and you stare right back. If you act as dead serious as possible, maybe he'll think you're kidding, and the two of you can start cracking jokes about getting together and recreate dramatic renditions of _JE+DS 5evar_. He'll make an obscene amount of bro puns, you'll poetically deconstruct how to stick things up a butt, and the both of you will devolve into hopeless laughter after he tries to pronounce 'frenulum'.

But instead he's still staring, a little line of concentration furrowing on his brow, and you're starting to sweat under your arms as you realize that his hand has moved to encircle around your wrist.

Oh fuck, he's getting closer.

Oh fuck, what's going on.

Is it actually happening this time?

**== > Dave: Get interrupted.**

The front door opens with a bang. You jump and swear; John falls over in his shock and hurry to get away and Bro waltzes in like the jackass he is, carrying a mess of plastic bags in one hand and jingling his keys in the other.

"Sorry," he says -- _not sorry at all, you prick_ \-- and kicks the door closed with one foot. "Did I interrupt you turtledoves?"

"Hey, Mr. Strider," John squeaks from the floor; the both of you reflexively wince at his relapse in addressing your brother, and you strive to cover it by jumping up and attempting to take the bags from Bro.

"Did you get chicken lo mein?" you drawl, reaching out, but he holds the bags away from you, challenge in the twist of his mouth; you nearly begin a brotherly squabble, but the struggle you had with John is still in the forefront of your mind. You turn away and shrug, choosing to pick up your discarded juice box instead. Can't be leaving trash everywhere. Shit's unsanitary.

Bro drops the bags on the counter and begins unpacking. "Yeah, I got it," he eventually says, pushing a box towards you. You open it up and take a whiff, firmly ignoring the heavy silence in the living room behind you. "Shame your other buddies couldn't be by tonight. That Lalonde girl is a piece of work, but she's entertaining."

"Creep," you assert.

"Ass," he rejoins, and the two of you spend a couple of moments shoving each other before John wanders over, interest piqued by the food.

You do your best not to look at him for too long.

**== > Dave: Have an awesome bro-night in spite of previous shenanigans.**

You're going mad. Bro-night isn't even a real pun. It's just stupid.

And it's irrelevant at this point, because your best bro John has fallen asleep in front of the TV and your Bro has disappeared. He left as soon as he was done eating, actually, and you suspect that some club somewhere is off the goddamn hook tonight, given that it's the weekend before Spring Break and people are always ready to party.

Yeah. Party.

You sip from your millionth juice box.

Your phone chimes from your pocket. You fish it out, stare at the message, glance at John, and internally shrug.

dave, are you still awake??  
if you are not still awake then i seriously doubt johns ability to party hard  
i am very much prepared to be sternly disappointed in him  
look, ive got the face for it and everything  
}:[ behold the face of stern disappointment!!!!  
tone it down a little there harley, we dont need to give the kid traumatized flashbacks  
hey dave!!! so....  
how was your evening?

John slumps lower in his seat and snores a little. You shift deeper into the cushions beside him, careful to leave room for Jesus between the two of you. 

It's three in the morning and you're pretty tired, but you can't really sleep anyway. 

we ate chinese food and i kicked his ass in twenty different video games and he drank enough soda to make dentists everywhere shed a tear of sorrow  
it was pretty tragic ngl  
:D  
oh and jones broke up with him  
DDDD:  
is he okay??

John is starting to shift more. You think he's waking up, which isn't really a surprise, because that position looks uncomfortable. 

yeah hes fine we

He pulls himself up, eyes twitching between consciousness and sleep, and slumps against your side, head heavy on your shoulder. You freeze, torn between pushing him off and just sitting there. Given what happened earlier, both options seem like shit, but you're not going to think about what happened earlier. That would mean acknowledging that this isn't the first time this has happened, and it's probably not going to be the last, but each time it does you enjoy it a little, because you're a sadistic bastard. 

dave?  
daaaaave!  
you hit send without finishing your sentence again, dumbass  
sorry my thumb slipped  
hes fine  
were cool  
were total bros weve got this okay  
go make out with your girlfriend and stop trying to understand the complex dude times me and john have together  
i made out with her earlier! now were going to snuggle and talk about our FEELINGS  
gay  
jeeeez, try to not be so jealous next time dave!!  
night! <3  
super gay  
fuck you!!  
<3<3<3!!!!!

John shifts a little closer to your side, still snoring, and you love the kid so much that it hurts. 

Oh, hell. There goes the 'L' word. 

The word stutters through your mind for a moment as you realize that this dude is your best friend and you've known him for years, and you would pretty much do anything for him because, shit, you do kind of love him. 

You try to rationalize that you would do anything for your friends, and that you love them too, but John breathes out and it tickles at your neck and you can't help but think about what the hell he was trying to pull earlier, because that sure looked like a kissing move and you're not sure if you're hoping it was or if you're terrified it was. It doesn't help that he's pretty much attached to your side right now, sleeping off MSG and a massive sugar rush, and _not_ mouthing off and reminding you why dating him would be a very, very bad idea. 

He shifts again and you lean against him, resting one cheek against the top of his head and trying to play it off as exhaustion instead of affection. Maybe if you try hard enough, you'll actually believe it. 

But really, you know that you're fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have one more chapter outlined, but due to 'deep life stuff', I may not be able to post it for a while.
> 
> This is a word of warning more than a promise, but it's looking likely that the conclusion will take a while to be concluded.
> 
> Also I totally used Eridan-purple for Jones, because it's a rad color and I like it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plans were rescheduled and I got time to put this on here, but due to length the "last chapter" has been split into separate parts. They will be added as soon as I can get all the formatting done.
> 
> I may be far too fond of Pesterlogs.

**== > Be someone reasonable.**

You cannot be someone reasonable! She's sleeping right now and not very likely to wake anytime soon. Her bed is comfy, her girlfriend is comfier, and she's got at least another two hours before her mother brings the two of them brunch-in-bed in a show of motherly approval over their close friendship.

The statement will be framed in air-quotes and accompanied by a shameful amount of winks.

**== > Someone reasonable: Wake up.**

Your name is ROSE LALONDE and you wake up, warm and content, in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets. You vaguely recall falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning after pirating television shows to your laptop and watching them with JADE HARLEY, your best friend and current CO-CAPTAIN OF THE SAPPHIC SLUMBER PARTY EXTRAVAGANZA. You also hold the title of co-captain, despite your best demurring statements, but she is insistent and there is not much you can do to change her mind.

Not that you would try very hard. The nights she spends in your home while her grandfather roams the world are some of your fondest memories in life.

But you do regret teaching her what 'sapphic' means.

**== > Rose: Continue to be a pinnacle of mature and stable relationships.**

You bask in your self-satisfied morning musk, nose firmly pressed to Jade's neck, and think about how wonderful it is that the two of you entered into this relationship long ago with clear expectations and --

And what's that noise?

God damn it. Is someone pestering you?

**== > Rose: Begrudgingly answer.**

You gently untangle yourself from Jade's sprawling limbs and peer over the edge of the bed at the laptop sitting on the floor, blithely interrupting an otherwise beautiful morn with the strident tunes of a new Pesterchum conversation. If only, you reflect, you had had the forethought to shut the laptop off rather than just setting it down next to the bed. Then you could have had a perfectly normal morning of dealing with your over-enthusiastic mother and your charmingly passionate girlfriend. 

Instead, you suspect you will be roped into dissecting a romantic problem with a blatantly obvious solution to everyone except the persons encapsulated within the little drama.

You are reluctant to leave the bed, but you are more reluctant to wake Jade, so you carefully vacate the warm confines and fetch your laptop and a dressing gown from the floor. You set the laptop down on your desk and shrug the gown onto your shoulders, already disgruntled at the effort. As you sit, light from the window glares painfully off the computer screen, and you have to change your position in order to block it.

At this point, you are several levels of disgruntled, and you begrudgingly wake the monitor so that the source of your malcontent is exposed.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 10:12 --  
TG: rose, you aren't answering your phone and i really need to talk to you!!  
TG: wait, shit.  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 10:13 --

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 10:15 --  
EB: sorry, i'm on dave's computer, and i forgot to  
EB: wait, that doesn't matter!  
\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] is an idle chum! --  
EB: eeaauuurrgggh!  
EB: rose!  
EB: rose rose rose rose!!!  
EB: rose, i am in full panic mode! where are you?!  
EB: rose, i am going to die, i am actually going to die, and you aren't helping.  
EB: ROSE, STOP MAKING OUT WITH JADE AND TALK TO ME!!  
TT: Present.  
EB: rose!  
TT: John.  
EB: man, i'm so happy to see you.  
TT: I would say the same, but I've not the inclination for such pleasantries at the moment.  
EB: whoa. that was snarky.  
TT: I was in bed.  
EB: oh. uh.  
TT: What crisis has rendered your life so terrible today?  
EB: it happened again!  
TT: Curiosity begs the question. What's 'it'?  
EB: augh!  
EB: well.  
EB: this is going to sound really dumb.  
TT: I'm sure.  
EB: jeez!  
EB: remind me to never wake you up again.  
TT: I did not say that I was sleeping, only that I was in bed.  
TT: At the moment, that is irrelevant. You pestered me for a reason.  
TT: Continue.  
EB: fine.  
EB: uh.  
EB: well, yesterday, we were all supposed to hang out, but then that didn't happen, so i was just hanging out with dave at his house and his bro went to get something for us to eat and then i got a message from jones, right?  
TT: I heard some inkling of the situation.  
TT: She broke up with you?  
EB: yes, and it sucked.  
TT: Do you want to talk about it?  
EB: not really.  
TT: Then what's the issue?  
EB: bluh!  
EB: give me a second!  
EB: it was after that!  
EB: after the message thing!  
TT: John, dear, I do love you, but my patience is wearing thin.  
EB: i sort of had a fight with dave and then we were talking and then i looked at him and that thing happened again!  
EB: where i wanted to kiss him!  
EB: like, kiss him kiss him!  
EB: on the mouth! with my mouth!  
EB: mouths! together!  
EB: mine and dave's!  
TT: John, take a deep breath.  
EB: hnnnnnnnnnnnnnaugh!  
TT: That is not a deep breath.  
TT: You are over-reacting again.  
EB: no i'm not!  
TT: John.  
EB: okay. maybe i am.  
EB: a little.  
EB: but it's super awkward and i don't want to feel like that when i look at him!  
EB: because that's not the worst part.  
TT: Egad. Something worse than a homosexual attraction towards one's best friend?  
TT: How will you ever survive such a tragedy?  
EB: HAHA ROSE. VERY FUNNY.  
EB: and it's not a homosexual attraction!  
TT: You just admitted to a desire of putting your mouth on his mouth in a manner which I have taken to interpret as romantic due to the repetition of the phrase "kiss him".  
EB: yes, that is a thing i said, but it's  
EB: it's weirder than that.  
TT: Please explain before I start taking offense.  
EB: oh jeez.  
EB: it's just  
EB: okay, it's just things like, we pick on each other all the time, and make fun of each other, and  
EB: and it's like he hides juice boxes around his house and i know where he hides most of them because he tells me and  
EB: and that one time in seventh grade when some bullies were picking on him and i rigged their lockers with glitter and shaving cream and  
EB: and how we always share homework if we're having trouble in class because he's awesome at math but really bad at chemistry and  
EB: and he's just  
TT: Oh, god, I hope you're not going to say it.  
EB: he's my bro!  
EB: hehehe. we sent that at the same time.  
EB: hey! what's wrong with him being my bro??  
TT: I don't even know where to begin.  
EB: hehe, what?  
TT: The issue has failed to present itself to me.  
TT: Are you uncertain if his intentions towards you are more than platonic?  
EB: what? no!  
EB: that isn't the problem at all.  
TT: So you do think his intentions romantic.  
EB: what?! i said no!  
EB: dave doesn't think of me like that.  
TT: ...  
EB: yeah, i know, he acts dumb a bunch, but that's just him making fun of me.  
EB: it doesn't mean anything.  
TT: ...  
EB: ...  
TT: ...  
EB: dot dot dot.  
TT: I cannot believe the thoughts I am entertaining at the moment.  
EB: what? what's wrong?  
TT: John, I have ripped myself from a very, very comfortable bed in order to answer your call of distress, but I am finding myself unable to extricate any sort of true problem in the midst of your rambling proclamations of 'bro-hood'.  
EB: brofriendship.  
TT: Bite your tongue.  
EB: :P  
EB: jones broke up with me because i treated her like a girlfriend, but not like a friend.  
TT: ... That's certainly a change in topic.  
EB: rose, i don't want to lose dave as a friend.  
TT: Ah. How bright the light shines, now that clouds no longer obscure the sun's clarity.  
TT: You fear these budding thoughts of attraction and romance, because you have no wish to treat Dave as poorly as girlfriends of the past.  
EB: i didn't treat them POORLY!  
EB: and it's not romantic? but it's awkward, because he doesn't like me like that and if i tell him i still feel like this sometimes then...  
EB: i don't know!  
EB: i don't think i can be a good friend if i'm thinking about kissing him all the time.  
TT: At this juncture, I fear I must ask a most obvious question at the risk of its answer raising my ire:  
TT: Have you asked Dave if he wants to date you?  
EB: no!  
TT: Have you even raised the subject with him?  
EB: uh.  
EB: not since middle school.  
TT: Have you given a single thought to what he thinks about the subject?  
EB: rose, i'm not sure what you're getting at here.  
EB: dave doesn't like me like that. i'm the one with the problem here. the liking problem?  
EB: it's fine that it happened, but i would like it to stop happening, or else things like this morning are going to get weird really fast.  
TT: Oh, god.  
TT: What happened this morning?  
EB: oh, yeah. that's what i wanted to tell you in the first place.  
EB: i guess i fell asleep on him last night and when i woke up, i was still kind of sleeping on him.  
EB: he was asleep too, which is awesome, because that would have been hard to explain!  
EB: hehehe. but if he had woken up, i bet he would've had some really good lines about it.  
EB: oh, man!  
EB: i could have offered to make breakfast. that's what people in movies do after sleeping together.  
EB: eaugh, but i bet he would have started calling me a bunch of sappy nicknames again.  
EB: but then i could have come up with even sappier ones!  
EB: hehehehehe. like hummingbird.  
EB: hummingbird sounds really dumb. i bet he would have loved it.  
EB: ....  
EB: rose? are you still there?  
TT: I was wrong.  
EB: haha, what?  
TT: He wasn't the reckless one.  
TT: You are.  
EB: uh. what?  
EB: rose?  
EB: roooose?  
EB: rose! did you just leave me hanging?!  
TT: yep, rose left  
TT: sorry john!  
EB: jade?  
TT: yes!!  
EB: where did she go?!  
TT: she took her towel, so i guess she went to take a shower  
TT: she didnt say much about it  
TT: she just sort of  
TT: STORMED OUT!!!  
TT: :O  
EB: what?!  
TT: yup!!  
EB: why?!  
TT: um, hold up a second, i want to read some of this  
EB: no, don't do that!  
EB: jade?!  
TT: lol!!!!  
EB: oh, god damn it.  
TT: LMAO!!  
EB: jade, i don't like you anymore.  
TT: yes you do!  
TT: now sit still for another second  
TT: brb!! <3  
\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 10:56 --

\-- gardenGnostic [GG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 10: 57 --  
GG: hi again!!! <3  
GG: okay this makes a ton more sense now  
GG: before she left she told me to tell you something  
EB: augh. what is it?  
GG: if you dont kiss that boy on the mouth right now im going to punch you!!  
GG: a bunch of times!!!!!  
EB: she didn't say that.  
GG: lol nope, she didnt  
GG: her actual message was something along of the lines of you better talk to him about your feelings instead of falling all over yourself and being a jackass  
GG: idk it was a lot of words and she said it really fast and i barely got a chance to kiss her good morning  
GG: >:(  
GG: i blame you for that!!  
EB: i'm sorry.  
GG: apology NOT accepted!!  
EB: :(  
GG: okay its accepted  
EB: :)  
EB: but i can't do that anyway.  
EB: if i tell him my "feelings", it'll be super awkward, because dave isn't interested in me like that!  
EB: you don't tell a bro you like him when he just wants to be a bro with you!  
EB: ...  
EB: hehe, that sentence was really dumb.  
GG: yeah it was!  
GG: and so were those other sentences!!!  
EB: hey!  
GG: you dont know that dave likes you?  
EB: what? what are you talking about?  
GG: dave totally likes you!  
GG: hes all over you all the time because hes dumb and he thinks if he makes it a joke, itll be less real  
GG: and youre just the same amount of dumb so you guys are perfect for each other!!!!  
GG: so kiss him already!!!!!  
EB: no, he's  
EB: okay, it's like  
EB: no, forget this.  
EB: that has got to be the worst romantic advice i've ever heard and you know it.  
GG: :/  
EB: eaauuggh.  
EB: i can't just KISS him.  
GG: why not??  
EB: for a lot of reasons! a lot of really, really, really distressing reasons.  
GG: um...  
EB: because that would mean dating and doing romantic stuff for real! and dave hates romantic stuff for real, but that's what couples do!  
GG: ......  
EB: i mean, yeah, maybe not all the time, but couples still go on dates and hold hands and they don't act like JUST FRIENDS.  
EB: and even if dave wanted to be my boyfriend, WHICH HE TOTALLY DOESN'T, that would mean we would stop being friends like we are right now and i don't want to do that!!  
GG: ........  
EB: and because the last time i was really honest with him, he made fun of me forever!  
GG: ....... oh!!  
GG: oooooohhh!!!!  
GG: i remember that!! in eighth grade!!  
GG: i got him in a headlock and made him appologize after he tried to do that movie reaching shoulder thing on you and you freaked out  
EB: yeah, it was really weird.  
EB: i don't even have any boobs to grab.  
EB: which he was quick to point out.  
EB: hehehehe. that jackass.  
GG: buuuuut you guys jokes like that all the time now so.....  
GG: ???  
EB: we talked about it then and it's fine.  
EB: i told him i didn't want to date him and he said okay and then we went back to ribbing on each other and it was totally fine!  
GG: john, that was YEARS AGO  
EB: yes.  
GG: YEARS!!  
EB: yeah, but it doesn't really feel like it!  
GG: /deep breath  
GG: YEEEARRRRSSSSSESRESSRSSR!!!!  
EB: stop mashing keys! i get the point!  
GG: i dont think you do!  
EB: this is going nowhere at the speed of infinity.  
EB: just drop it, jade.  
EB: i can't just kiss him and i won't because he doesn'tlka;lwkej;oijlfks OH FUCK  
GG: ?????  
EB: HE WOKE UP.  
GG: :O  
\-- ectoBiologist [EB] has ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 11:28 --


	5. Chapter 5

**== > Rose: Be John.**

Since Rose has long since stormed off in an agitated state of disbelief, it's easy enough to direct the narrative focus towards the young man currently freaking the fuck out in his best friend's bedroom.

That is to say, you.

You're freaking the fuck out.

**== > John: Stop freaking the fuck out.**

You do your best to stop freaking the fuck out, but you're freaking pretty hard, and dwelling on the freak-out isn't really helping the situation. You are caught like a deer in the headlights, hands still on the keyboard of Dave's computer, and stare at him as he stands in the doorway, presumably staring back at you. It's really hard to tell past those sunglasses he's always wearing! But what else would he be staring at?

"Hey, dude," you try, but your voice cracks a little. You clear your throat and do your best to play down the guiltiness that's currently making your stomach attempt a tango with your heart. By the feel of it, neither major organ have tried dancing before!

"Hey," he answers, and jerks his chin towards the computer. "What're you doing?"

You laugh nervously, reclining in the desk chair, and shrug. "I was just talking to Jade! She, uh," you scramble, thoughts trailing off, as you realize his shirt is still rucked up from passing out on the couch and that you had had your head pressed against his stomach for most of the night and you are the worst friend in the world. You feel like a creep. You feel like a super creep! You feel like you just got caught looking at something terrible like German porn, and you wish Dave would start making obscene jokes again, because he's better at it than you and you feel less creepy when he's being an obvious jerk.

But he doesn't say anything other than, "What'd she have to say?" and he leans against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh, not much," you start, spinning slightly in the chair to show how not uncomfortable you are. "She and Rose had a nice time last night, I guess. And, uh, we're still doing more stuff later this week!" Dave pulls out his phone as you're talking, correcting his shirt in the process, and you breath a little easier and the lies come faster. "We think it'd be awesome if we hung out at Rose's next. Hehe, not that your place isn't nice, but she's got that stereo surround system thing and, dude! Imagine watching National Treasure on that!"

He's tapping away on the touchscreen and you fiddle with a crystallized scorpion on his desk.

"Dude, we have a problem," Dave asserts, and you look at him, confused, and at the phone he's holding out. You take it suspiciously; he's pulled up a text message from his brother, sent hours earlier.

So when's the wedding?

"I can't DJ at my own wedding, that shit's not right," Dave starts rambling as you stare at the message. "But if we hire Bro, it comes with a pretty steep fee, and since neither of us got a job, I don't think we can handle it. And I'm sorry, dude, but your dowry is weak. If you didn't cook so well, I wouldn't even bother marrying you."

There are several avenues of conversation you can take, but those avenues don't occur to you, because you're still glancing between the message and Dave, confused.

There is an infinitesimal moment where a tight smile twitches at his mouth; then he's reaching forward and tapping on the screen until a series of photos are pulled up.

The first one is a wonderfully composed shot of you, passed right the fuck out on Dave, with your arms wrapped around his waist and your head pillowed on his stomach and you're going to die. You are figuratively going to die from embarrassment. You had woken up like that, but seeing once more how you had slept _right between his legs_ \-- which was pretty comfortable except _shut the hell up_ \-- isn't as terrible as the realization that his brother had seen this.

His brother saw it, and took a picture with _Dave's phone_ , and there are at least twenty more.

You flick through them, horror growing with each new shot, and Dave is talking again.

"I figure your dad will want to give you away at the altar," he muses, shoving his hands in his pockets, "But Bro will want to give me away, too, and we can't both be given away at the altar, 'cause there wouldn't be anyone to be given away to, so you figure we flip a coin or rock-paper-scissors for it? Word of warning, you pretty much always choose rock, so don't act like I don't got you figured out."

Jesus Christ. There's a post-it note stuck to your cheek in one of the pictures. You're fairly certain that "kawaii" means something like "cute", and you're definitely certain you're offended by the amount of curls and hearts Bro managed to squeeze out of that one word.

"But you're a pretty flighty bro anyway, so how about you wait up at the altar and I get to waltz down that aisle? I don't want you running away so soon, we've got to get at least one year of unhappy marriage under out belt before we can file for divorce. For future reference, yes, I am going to blame you, but it's okay, man, I won't hold it against you until I get drunk and disorderly. I might bring home a bar bunny in that case, so I'm counting on you to be a bro and clear out while I try not to puke up all the Cosmopolitans they bought me." His voice is sort of high and strained, because you still haven't replied; you don't think you can.

In the last picture, you've shifted, your eyes white slivers as you were close to waking, the post-it note gone. Dave's hand was on your shoulder, which you didn't remember, but he's still positioned as you had woken to discover. One arm behind his head, sunglasses pushed up, and, _shit_ , one eye cracked open and looking down at you. As far as you can tell, he was just as sleep-hazy and unaware of what was really going on as you were, but that doesn't stop the crawling feeling of embarrassment from worming its way into your gut.

You hate a lot of things at the moment, but the top two contenders are Bro Strider and the invention of camera phones.

Dave has long since trailed off, perhaps wondering why you haven't joined in on the prime material he's spinning out. He's waiting for you to say something, to laugh all of this off like you usually do, but the memory of waking up warm and cozy and snuggled up against him is too fresh for you to do anything but panic.

From his stance, you know that he saw the pictures second.

"You were awake?" you croak, looking up at him. You hold the phone like it's hot and welded to your fingers.

His shoulders stiffen; he shrugs to loosen them. "Woke up when you left. Fell back asleep after that." He nods towards the phone. "Saw that."

There's a moment of silence as you wait for him to say something out-of-line but stupidly funny so you can laugh and get over this, but he doesn't, so you're forced to continue.

"Why didn't you do something?"

He shrugs again. "You're heavy."

The first photo is pulled up again. You glance at it, wincing, and gingerly set the phone down on the desk. You're dead, your organs had disappeared, and all you can think about is what Dave smells like in the morning. It's a fact now imprinted in your mind and you're a major creep as well as being clinically dead.

You still can't bear to bring yourself to say anything of value. You can't talk to him about this, which is really dumb, because you've talked to him about way more embarrassing stuff before! But getting boners in the middle of class isn't quite the same thing like waking up with one after sleeping practically on top of your best friend--

Oh, god, why did you have to remember that. This is the worst time to think about boners. You're officially a pervert.

"Jesus," Dave huffs when you're still silent. "Is it always this awkward after people sleep together?"

That rips a small laugh from your chest; it's enough that the both of you relax, tension bleeding out through the usual cathartic release of inappropriate jokes. You stand, nervous jitters making you trip slightly over the mess of wires Dave has sprawling everywhere in his room. "Say," you add on a thought, "Do you want me to make breakfast? I'm pretty good at it, you know. There's a reason you're marrying me--"

Your foot catches on an extension cord; you instinctively flinch back to keep from pulling it out of the plug and promptly lose your balance.

Despite his earlier statement, Dave doesn't have a problem catching you.

**== > John: Be relieved.**

You _are_ relieved, even though Dave was probably just looking out for the turntables you were about to collide with. He caught you by the shoulders; you lean into him until you find your feet, already laughing about how stupid you are, but he doesn't laugh with you, just holds on until you're standing. When you're stable again, he shoves his hands into his pockets and waits for you to move.

But you don't move right away. This close, you can see his eyes behind his shades, the weird pale stubble on his face that's barely visible in the light from the window, and the tight line his mouth has made in the aftershock of you nearly wrecking his equipment.

"S-sorry," you stutter.

"No big," he mumbles, and that weird, awful feeling is back where you can't really think straight. Your thoughts skip around between the scent of sleep-warmed skin and how he's your best friend and it must be perverted to want to kiss a friend this badly, but the feeling is so strong and you just can't think --

**== > John: Kiss him.**

You lean forward to kiss him.

He turns his face away.

**== > John: Be disappointed.**

You _are_ disappointed, but what did you expect? It's like you told Jade; the two of you joke around so much because you didn't want to date him and he doesn't feel like that towards you, and kissing is taking it too far, you should have known better, you are a certified _idiot_ \--

"Don't," he rasps, face still turned away. "Don't do that if you don't mean it."

"I--" you try, but you don't know what you want to say, so you stop, still uncomfortably close.

When you don't move, Dave takes a careful step backwards, back nudging against the open door, and forget your earlier statements. You die right now, miserably, because your best bro -- your best friend is looking at you like you just kicked twenty puppies and ate a baby.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, staring at his collarbone. His expression is physically hurting you. You didn't even know expressions could do that, but your chest feels tight and your stomach is clenching and you feel downright awful.

"John," he says, and your skin tightens in preparation for the abuse that's sure to come. "Dude, I get it."

"What?" You're confused again, in more ways than one.

"I get that you don't want to date me, and that's fine," Dave rushes out, nearly spitting the words before they burn his lips. "And I can hang out with you and be dumb with you and that's great, that's awesome, 'cause you're my best friend, John, but you can't just -- you can't just do stuff like this, man."

"Uh," you manage.

"You can't fucking koala up on me and try to make passes at me and you sure as shit can't keep me around as some sort of fuck-buddy only to fuck off with one of your several rotating girlfriends and do all the stupid romance shit with them, not only because I don't think they'd take very kindly to that but because that's a shit situation and you have got to stop doing stuff like this."

Your stomach has dropped down to the bowels of the earth, where it very well may stay until the end of time, but you're starting to get pretty pissed off yourself.

"Dude, I don't want you as a _fuck-buddy_ ," you hiss, hands balling into fists. "You're my bro!"

"God _damn_ it," he pronounces, dragging one hand down his face, and you haven't seen him this visibly upset since -- well, you don't think you've ever seen him this upset! "You can't be this dense, Egbert. You can't seriously be this dense."

"You're the one who makes passes at me all the time," you point out, jabbing your finger in his direction, and he straightens his shoulders in offense. "I can't even count how many times you've -- fucking -- danced up on me!"

"Danced up on you," he repeats, bland.

"Yeah! The thing! With gyrations and -- fucking -- fuck, lap dances and shit!"

"Dude, strippers do lap dances, not boyfriends," he states, and you are so close to strangling him.

_"Well, if you want to be a boyfriend so bad, why don't you act like it?"_ you yell.

_"Because maybe I don't want to be YOUR boyfriend!"_ he shouts right back.

Ouch.

"Uh. John?"

That hurt. Like, a lot.

"John, are you just going to stand there or are you going to keep fighting with me, because I've got a lot of one-liners I wanted to whip out."

You didn't even know something like that could hurt so much. You had thought for years that Dave joked around so much because he wasn't interested, which you could deal with, because you liked being his friend, but it never seriously occurred to you that he joked around because he _did_ like you.

What were you even expecting? You were attracted to him at one point -- shit, you still are, but his behavior helped you remember that he didn't feel the same way -- but shit, he did. Or he doesn't? Does he like you the same way you like him, but he doesn't want to date, or he doesn't want to date _you_ , is he gay and he doesn't want to date you? But you like him! But --

You're going to puke if you don't say something soon.

So you say the most honest thing you can at the moment.

"I don't understand."

He sighs. "I know you don't."

You stare at him until he continues.

"Jesus, stop with the puppy-dog eyes, Egbert. I'm dying of a massive sugar overdose," he drawls. He bounces on his heels, shoulders drawn up defensively.

"I won't stop until you explain," you assert, and he gives you the most histrionic sigh in the history of histrionic sighs. You would be impressed, but your guts haven't quite settled down yet, and you're not in the mood to appreciate such fine dramatics.

His hesitation to speak hurts just as much as when he had stepped away.

"John, you're my best friend," he starts, low and even. "I'm cool with that. We've been through shit together and we're still friends, which is fucking amazing, but if you're not going to take it further than that, then you need to back off a little."

"I don't --" you try to interrupt, but his grimace is so swift and fierce that you pause, unsure.

"You can't try to kiss me, you can't treat me like your own body pillow, and you can't pretend we have all the benefits of --" He cuts himself off, swallowing hard, and you find yourself with tears in your eyes. "I don't want to be your rebound all the time."

A rebound? You don't treat him like a rebound! You want to yell at him again, tell him he's dumb for thinking that, because he's way more to you than that, but his face is cold as stone and in a moment of clarity you realize that none of that needs to be said. Dave is shutting down, closing himself off, and you can see this because you've been with him long enough to tell when he's trying really hard not to let too much through.

The thought that he might be pulling away from you sends a jolt of fear through your nerves.

"I want to be your friend," you blurt, small and tremulous.

He snorts, distress bleeding through the cracks. "Then fucking be my friend, John. It's not that hard."

"But I also want to be more than that!" you plead, desperate

The two of you stand in the silence of his bedroom, shocked. You think he might be more shocked than you are, since you had the benefit of a split second of thought before you spoke, and he had to hear it fresh and uncensored.

"Are you asking me out, Egbert?" he asks, one eyebrow raised, and it's so cocky, but so unsure, and this is the kid that you would do anything for, because you love him and you would do anything for him, and you have done a lot of stuff for him already, but that doesn't matter as much as all the things you haven't done for him. He deserves more than that.

You can't deny him honesty, not now, because you care so much for him that it hurts.

"I never want to stop being your friend," you tell him, stepping closer, and he stiffens, wary of your intentions. You pause, giving him enough space to relax, before you continue. "But, I like you, a lot, and I want to hold your hand and-- and-- and do all the dumb dating stuff that people do, and kiss you a bunch, and cuddle when it rains, and not be gross, for once, and just be real."

He still hasn't moved, but you're frozen in place, terrified that you fuck up now, he'll bolt and then there will be absolutely nothing left of your friendship.

"I want to date you," you plainly state, "But I don't want to stop being your friend."

"John," he sighs, and the sound is so small and soft that you find your stomach flopping --

"That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard."

"What?" you exclaim, but the sound comes out more like _'wha?'_ and the jackass is laughing at you! He's fucking laughing, wiping at his eyes under his shades, and it's shaky and tight, but he's still fucking laughing, and you are going to kill him.

"John," he rasps, voice shaking with something you don't quite understand, "If you think for a goddamn second that we wouldn't do any of the dumb shit we usually do along all that romantic crap you want to pull, then you're an idiot, plain and simple. You're talking to Dave Motherfucking Strider. I eat romance for breakfast and shit out bouquets of goddamn roses, and I'll still kick your ass at video games because you're the jackass that doesn't get the 'friend' in 'boyfriend' and I will tell you every time that happens because I'm not going to let you pull that bullshit anymore, 'cause I fucking love you, bro, but I'm getting pretty sick of it--"

He doesn't get to finish his rambling, because once the word 'love' parses through your brain, you dart forward and mash your mouth against his in one of the most inept kisses you've ever given. Not that you've given many inept kisses, but it's really up there on the list, as the motion bangs his head against the door and he doesn't really kiss back so much as gape.

"Fuck," he breaths when you pull away. "The fuck?"

"Dave, will you go out with me?" you rattle off.

"You gonna treat me like your boy or your friend?" he snips, dead serious, and you grin. You _are_ an idiot; you two have been friends for years, and there's not much that will keep Dave Strider from mouthing off and doing his best to get your goat.

And, you realize with a jolt, you're still going to try to get his goat, because he's your friend first and you love him to pieces.

"I'm going to treat you like Dave," you tell him, reaching out to brush his bangs away from his eyes, and he fucking _blushes_.

Your grin widens, because his face is red and he's pissed about it and you can totally tell. You cup his face in yours hands and coo, "I'm going to treat you like my _brofriend_ ," and he shoves you away with a noise of disgust, but you're laughing and so is he, just a little, and it's fine if you're both laughing. Everything tight in your chest loosens at that little sound, and you laugh all the harder from sheer relief. You're an idiot! You're a wonderful idiot, because you love Dave a lot and he's never going to stop being your friend, because he loves you, too, and that's fantastic.

"God damn it," he sighs once you've calmed down. "Fuck. Fine. Let's date."

You're smiling so hard, your face might break, but you're supposed to be taking this seriously, so you crack your knuckles and sternly nod your head and ask, "Alright then. First activity as a couple! What do you want to do?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm fucking starving," he says, turning to go, but you grab his wrist and pull him close to kiss him again, because you're too happy not to kiss him.

This time he kisses you back, one hand wrapped around the back of your neck, and you just might die from sheer euphoria. He breathes in when you breath out, and he places a hand on your waist and the gesture seems so chaste that when he pulls you closer, you're almost offended by how much it turns you on.

He pulls away first, lips wet and red, and you run your thumb over them, grinning stupidly.

"John," he says low in his throat, and you never realized how wonderful your name sounded when he said it like that -- "You taste fucking disgusting. Go brush your teeth."

"I'm going to punch you in the dick," you say fondly, and kiss him again.

It takes a while before the two of you do anything about breakfast.

But you're fine with that.


	6. Epilogue

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] at 12:29 --  
TG: guess who made it with a hot dude yesterday  
TG: heres a tip: its me  
TG: and not you because youre super gay and also in a commited relationship like a nerd  
GG: you didnt MAKE IT with him!!  
GG: you guys just made out a bunch and argued about toothpaste  
GG: and you really need to stop being so jealous, rose is MY girlfriend, you know!!  
TG: is there room for a third  
GG: nope!!! beds too full  
TG: goddamn it  
GG: LOL!!  
TG: and im guessing from your super coy wording up there that john already texted you about it  
GG: he texted me WHILE you were doing it  
GG: :D  
TG: i knew i should have taken away his phone  
GG: hehe, im glad you didnt!! it was funny  
GG: so are you guys dating dating or are you just fooling around?  
TG: no were dating dating  
TG: were so serious about it you can tack on a third dating just to round things off  
GG: :O  
GG: thats pretty serious!  
TG: you dont even know harley  
TG: im going to buy him so many fucking bouquets  
TG: im going to lavish that kid with the sappiest romantic bullshit around  
TG: i will buy him fucking WREATHS that say sorry for your loss and when he asks what he lost im going to pop up with my best birthday suit and say his v-card  
GG: ....  
TG: implying that were going to do it  
GG: .........  
TG: the sex thing  
TG: were going to have sex  
GG: :/  
GG: i thought you didnt like sappy stuff like that!!  
TG: no but i do like making fun of him  
GG: :|  
GG: that doesnt seem very nice....  
TG: keep your hands to yourself harley  
TG: before you fly off the handle realize that this is a totally mature and responsible bromance weve got going on here and you just wouldnt understand  
TG: this is nothing like the thick as pea soup romantic tension you and me have  
TG: this shits so thick a drill couldnt pierce it let alone one of my best swords  
TG: plug your nose and hold your breath cause if youre not careful youre going to choke on our testosterone laden clouds of sexy-fine and i cant let one of my friends die like that  
TG: who am i going to make jealous by making out with my boyfriend in front of them  
GG: !!!!  
GG: hes your BOYFRIIIIEND???  
TG: wait shit thats lame  
GG: OooOOOooooOOOO  
TG: no quit that hes my brofriend  
GG: DAVE AND JOHN, SITTING IN A TREE  
TG: jesus dick thats even worse  
GG: K-I-S-S-I-N-G  
TG: oh no  
GG: FIRST COMES LUUUV!!  
TG: oh jesus  
GG: then comes MARRIAGE!!!!  
TG: im breaking up with you  
GG: THEN comes the BABY in the BABY CARRIAGE!!  
TG: slow your roll there we havent said anything about babies just yet  
TG: thats a pretty big commitment for two dudes to make and were young and hot  
TG: our schedule is pretty full right now and we cant make any room for something as lame as changing diapers and warming up bottles  
GG: hed be such a good dad though!  
TG: yeah probably  
GG: <3!!  
GG: at least you guys finally talked about this  
GG: we were getting pretty tired of dealing with your immature stinky bullshit  
GG: you were throwing it around like nobodys business!!  
TG: no we dealt with our issues in a clear and open forum like adults  
TG: get your facts straight  
TG: if you can make anything straight  
GG: says the boy that just spent several hours making out with his best dude friend  
GG: :D  
TG: oh snap  
GG: :DDD  
GG: did you tell rose yet??  
TG: like you havent already  
GG: well OF COURSE i told her, but did YOU tell her, dumbass  
TG: yeah i sent her a picture  
TG: of me and john  
TG: making out  
TG: with our tongues  
GG: D:  
GG: eeewwwww!!  
GG: dave, thats not how you do relationships!!  
TG: what would you know you jumped into bed with rose and never left  
GG: thats not what happened at all!!  
GG: but its not like were going to get the narrative to explain just how awesome we are  
GG: were too sexy and too cool for something as silly as romantic confusion  
TG: okay im not really sure what youre talking about so im going to do what i usually do when you say something weird  
TG: which is ignore it  
GG: :P  
TG: okay im bouncing ive got to go do stuff with my best friend  
GG: ??  
TG: thats code for make out some more and then send pictures to you and rose so you can properly appreciate it  
GG: oh! like that super kawaii picture??  
TG: what  
GG: you sent us a picture of you and john all cuddling on the couch too  
GG: the one with a note on johns cheek that said kawaii?  
GG: it was  
GG: /super deep breath!!  
GG: ADORABLE!!!  
TG: what  
GG: unless its part of another one of those dumb embarrassing contests you guys always have  
GG: those are less cute and pretty much awful because sorry dave!!!  
GG: youre not as good at lap dances as you think you are  
GG: :(  
TG: im  
GG: ..... ??  
TG: murder  
GG: ??????  
TG: just  
TG: murder  
GG: dave?  
GG: daaaave?  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] is an idle chum! --  
GG: :|  
GG: siiiiiiiiigh  
\-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 12:56 --

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the end! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and three in the morning is a wonderful hour for the creative processes, should anyone care to try it.
> 
> ...
> 
> Chapters 4, 5, and 6 were seriously supposed to be one chapter.
> 
> Heavy sigh.


End file.
